


"I Dreamt About You Last Night."

by impulse_baker



Series: 100 Ways to Say 'I Love You' [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Misses Castiel, Dream Sharing, Fluff, M/M, Pining, god they are so in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 22:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulse_baker/pseuds/impulse_baker
Summary: Dean hasn't seen or heard from Castiel in a couple of days. Two, to be exact. So when he dreams of his angel, it's bittersweet. Why can't he just come home already?





	"I Dreamt About You Last Night."

_Dean took a long satisfying pull from his can of Arnold Palmer and set it back down on the closed cooler next to his lawn chair. He readjusted the fishing rod in his hands to get a more relaxed grip with both hands. The line was relaxed, and he could see where it disappeared into the sparkling surface of the lake. There were a few ducks with their ducklings around and a pair of tortoises snapping at the algae that was growing around the dock legs where it met the water. The wind was still, only subtly disturbing the calm lake every now and then and the sun shone through sparse cirrus clouds, making everything glow golden. It was perfect. He didn’t mind too much that nothing was biting his hook. It was enough to be able to just be here on the dock, relaxed and completely at ease._

_“Could you hand me another piece of bread please, Dean?”_

_“Dude, save some for our sandwiches.” He chided but nonetheless, put down his pole to rummage through the cooler to retrieve the bagged loaf of sliced bread. He untied it and wiggled his fingers to the very back to try to get the other end slice._

_“Just hand me the whole bag.”_

_“No way, you’d end up feeding the whole thing to the damn ducks!”_

_“I will not. But even if I did, we have plenty of other food.”_

_“We need it for sandwiches. I’m not making one of Sammy’s stupid sandwiches that uses lettuce instead of bread.” He handed him the slice, determined not to give him anymore._

_He should have known better. He ended up handing him three more slices._

_“Your ducks are scaring away the fish.” Dean grumbled_

_“Good. You shouldn’t kill for sport.”_

_“I mean I was going to eat it, so it technically isn’t for sport.”_

_Blue eyes that reflected the sunshine gave him a meaningful look, one eyebrow raised, and forehead creased, tilted towards him._

_“Shut up.” He huffed, no edge to his voice._

_“I didn’t say anything.”_

_“You gave me the look!”_

_“I don’t know what you mean.”_

_“God, I hate you.” He laughed this time._

_“I’ll take your word for it, Dean.”_

_They sat in companionable silence for a while until Dean finally spoke up again._

_“Cas, is this really you? Or am I just dreaming you up, again?”_

_“Which would you rather it be?”_

_“I just…haven’t seen you in a while. I know you have all that angel crap, but I miss you, man.” He was allowed to be honest here, because the things that required him to build up emotional walls didn’t exist here._

_“I miss you, too, Dean. You must know that.” The tricky part was discerning whether this was his dream projection of his angel just saying what he wanted to hear, or if it was his actual angel reciprocating the level of honesty._

_“Where are you?”_

_“I’m here.”_

_Dean scooted his chair closer to Cas, his fishing somehow forgotten, the pole disappearing from his hands. He got right up in the angel’s space and put his hands on his face, brushing his thumbs over Cas’ cheekbones. He rested their foreheads together and took a deep breath_

_._

 

Dean woke up somehow feeling both well rested and exhausted. He didn’t want to get out of bed. He wanted to lay on his memory foam for a while longer and just _not_ think about anything. He was an adult, which meant he could do nothing if he wanted to, dammit. He grabbed his phone from the night stand and opened his messages.

_Hey. Hope everything is going ok._

He fired off the text to Cas and then tossed his phone back somewhere near the foot of his bed and tried to settle back into his mattress. It didn’t last long. Perhaps lifelong hunting made him restless, but he physically didn’t feel like he could lay there any longer, as much as he wanted to. Not with his mind racing the way it was.

He ended up getting up, and went about his routine, as if on auto pilot. He briefly wondered if there were any nearby hunts they could get to today. He needed something to do, but not too far away. He didn’t have it in him today.

Unfortunately, Sam had nothing for him. He hadn’t picked on anything that was even remotely supernatural. He thought about inviting Charlie over for a game or movie night or something, but he didn’t have the social energy to want to hang around Sam, let along Kevin and Charlie, too. So he decided he would spend the day doing menial chores around the Bunker.

He mopped the kitchen floor and scrubbed down every surface, including under the stove tops. Once he was satisfied with the overwhelming level of the lemony bleach scent of the cleaner in the kitchen, he moved on to tackle the bathroom. The tiles were scoured, and each shower was deep cleaned individually. He took his time cleaning, grout cleaner bottle in one hand and brush in the other. He went so far as to disinfect every handle in the Bunker, once the bathroom was sparkling.

His knuckles felt raw and his back ached and his nostrils burned and his shoulders were sore, but even that couldn’t distract him from his dream. _Where was Cas?_

Getting him back was beyond anything Dean felt he deserved. But he accepted it. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. But maybe he got too hopeful about this particular boon. He thought surely the three of them, Team Free Will, would stick together going forward. He thought that they had surely learned their lessons and would always work together because they were just better that way. He thought after returning to them, that Cas would maybe want to stay.

_Fucking idiot. I should’ve known better._

He didn’t have much to say while he, Sam, and Kevin ate the dinner Dean prepared. He stayed quiet while he cleaned up in the kitchen, not wanting to already ruin all his hard work from the day with a few stray grease splash stains.

“Are you ok?” Sam’s voice broke his concentration.

“What? Yeah. Why?”

“You’re…you know.” His brother gestured at the sponge in his hand and raised his eyebrows.

“I’m cleaning up? Because your lazy asses can’t be bothered to do it?”

“He means you’re stress cleaning.” Kevin spoke up bluntly.

 

Dean retreated to his room to clean in peace, away from judgmental prophets and brothers. He didn’t need a psychoanalysis right then.

He was vaguely aware that his phone buzzed a few times, but he wasn’t in the mood to check it. No doubt it was Sam texting him from the safety of the other side of the door, asking if he was alright. The dust in his room took priority over nosy moose.

His floor had been swept, shelves dusted, drawers polished and sheets changed when another knock broke his brooding.

“What do you want, Sam?”

The door opened slowly, and he whipped his head back with the intention to tell Sam off, but instead he was met with concerned blue eyes.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Oh. Hey, Cas. Didn’t know you were coming.”

“I always come when you call.”

“I uhh…I didn’t call you, man. Maybe Sam or – ”

“I didn’t mean with your phone.” The look he gave him was pointed and still concerned. Without invitation, not that he needed one, Cas sat on Dean’s freshly made bed and looked up at him expectantly.

Dean never had the choice _not_ to join him. His legs made the decision for him.

“How are you? Kevin warned me you were stress cleaning again.”

“I’ve just been doing some much needed cleaning. This place gets filthy when no one else cleans. I’m fine.” _I’m not fine. I’m far from fine. But it is better now that you’re here. But I’ll be right back to where I was when you leave. Again._

“Your room does look very nice. And the kitchen has never smelled so fresh. Your work is always impeccable, not matter what it is.” His smile was small, but it made Dean’s heart soar. If no one else, he could count on Cas to make him feel appreciated, even for the smallest shit.

“So uhh…super important angel business all taken care of?” _Why didn’t you text me back? You haven’t called in two days._

“Yes. Mostly. But I wanted to come home.”

There it was. _Home_.

“Most people spend more time wherever they call home, you know.” He didn’t mean for it to come out so sharp, and he felt bad for trying to make Cas feel bad, but Dean felt like a ditched date sometimes when Cas would spoil him with days on end spent with him only to take off again. He pathetically felt _led on_ when Cas would get him in a routine of expecting calls every night they were apart, texts all day, and then cut him off cold turkey. It wasn’t _fair_.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I thought of you. I heard you. But…Hofniel did not spare a minute for any of us to do anything other than track the cherub down. They are quite vulnerable and susceptible to misfortunate when separated from the Host for very long and we couldn’t bear to lose another.”

Dean recognized it for what it was. It wasn’t a defense or an explanation. It was Cas filling Dean in indirectly on who he was with and what he was doing.

“But I’m here now, Dean.”

“How long?” He sounded petulant, even to his own ears.

  In lieu of an answer, Castiel shifts on the bed and takes Dean’s face between his hands, palms cupping his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed because he wanted to just _feel._ Pressing their foreheads together almost seemed like the natural next step but Dean was set alight. The touch almost drew tears from Dean. Every nerve in his body cried out for the angel and the gesture felt sanctifying. His insides sang out for _moremoremore_ because how could he ever be familiar enough with the smooth skin that was gracing him right now? His heart was beating so fast he thought maybe it would pump straight through his chest because it would much rather be held in Cas’ hands than waste away trapped in Dean’s rib cage, so far from the angel.

“I dreamt about you last night.” He choked out. It almost felt like déjà vu, to be so close like this with him. He squeezed his eyes even tighter, feeling stupid for saying something so blatantly a cry for more of his attention. It was too much to try and talk about how empty his days were when Cas was gone that his brain materialized him in his sleep.

But Castiel was merciful, and he said nothing. He just ran one hand through the hunter’s hair while the other purposefully traced over the ginger stubble. Dean gripped Cas’ wrists, silently entreating him not to break away.

They sat like that for a while, just breathing the same air, the tips of their noses barely brushing against one another.

“It is hard for me to stay away for long, but I will always find a way to you.” It was an admission and a promise and Dean clung to the sincerity in his voice.

“So, it was you? In my dream?”

He got a small chuckle in return. “I would never feed bread to ducks, Dean. It is quite injurious to their health.”

For the first time all day, Dean laughed. Yeah, Cas was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I frustrated myself writing this because I was just furiously typing and thinking "Dean just tell him you want him to stay with you forever and ever and you want his mouth to do that kissing thing to you like daaaammmnn"
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!
> 
> ***don't feed ducks bread please; if you want to feed them, give them torn up lettuce or corn or seeds***
> 
> Previous work: "Have a Good Day at Work."  
> Next work: "Take My Seat."


End file.
